


all that is gold

by JeanSouth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several fics for the Daisuga week. Feat. aus, first time, confessions and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning: it is day four and i'm burnt out on a lack of interest from everyone towards my writing for daisuga and probably will not continue past day 3. thanks

1/7: first encounters, daisuga week.

Sugawara meets the guy with the nice smile the first time when he’s completely drunk, singing karaoke at the top of his lungs, and serenades Sugawara a grand total of six times while he’s trying to drink his recent break-up away. Which is impossible when a nice brunette with an honest smile keeps coming over, with a bag of peanuts, then half a pizza, and three tubs of fake chinese food.

"Why are you doing this?" Sugawara asks, polite, only slightly buzzed, and insanely confused. Guys normally look at him, think he’s good to hang out with, then adopt him as some kind of maternal figure. And as nice as that may be, in a way that soothes all of his protective feelings, it would be nice to feel even a smudge sexy, and have a boyfriend that doesn’t treat him like a housewife.

"You look pretty and sad," the stranger insists, giving him a burger to add to the pile of food on the table. "And I’m good at fixing bruises - I’m an older brother! - but I’m not very good at fixing sadness, and the kids always smile if I bring them some candy, so…"

He rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward all of a sudden, and glances back at his friends six times in quick succession. Sugawara has heard them making jokes all night that this guy really might be a 20-something year old after all, instead of a middle aged man. Between that and people jokingly calling him dad, Sugawara takes a mojito-inspired risk.

"Well," he says, taking a glance into one of the bags of food. "If you gave me your number, that might make me a little happier."

He ends it on a smile, hands turning a little to gesture at his phone. Within seconds it’s snatched up until he gets stuck on the pass-coded lockscreen. Sugawara laughs and takes it before he gets locked out of his phone.

"So, your name…" he glances up. "And your number."

"Daichi!" he calls out, grabbing his own phone from his pocket, then slows down and smiles. "Sawamura Daichi."

As he takes the number and leaves, Sugawara feels like there is less snow in his heart.

Then, three days pass. And really, Sugawara has had enough of sadness in the past two weeks. He is gosh-darn done with it, and intends to stick it to the universe. So he calls first.

"Hello," he says sweetly, when a sleepy voice answers the phone. He has every intention of scolding, ready to adopt the same tone of voice he does when Kageyama skips classes, but he stops short for a second, awkwardness churning in his gut at the idiot of being shoved into a mothering pigeon hole again. Instead, he waits and asks. "Why didn’t you call? We met a few nights ago…"

Daichi clears his throat awkwardly.

"The thing is…" he starts, sounding slightly more awake by the second. "I was inappropriate. I kept harassing you even when you ignored me…"

He sounds a bit guilty, but responsible; Sugawara can see him as a businessman in a suit, tugging off a tie and talking about his day at the office.

"And I’m not really like that," Daichi adds. "Harassing someone, you know? So if you liked that… you probably won’t like me very much. I don’t like drama, and chasing someone, or being the horny college guy."

Sugawara thinks it over for a second, adds in a hum half-way to let Daichi know he’s still there.

"Well…" he starts, thinking of a guy who’s calm and collected, responsible, smart, with a fun side. "I wasn’t at my best then either. So if you wanted to take me for dinner, we can do this first encounter thing over, what do you say?"

A week later, on an aquarium bench, Sugawara tangles his fingers with Daichi’s, watches a manta ray float by, and enjoys the feeling of spring in his soul.


	2. Chapter 2

2/7 daisuga week: crossover/confessions. ffx-2 verse

"Nothing burns like a warrior setting himself on fire," Sugawara remarks, a little more quiet than Asahi is used to. In the distance, Daichi is larger than life; there’s fire everywhere, ripped from the heavens in bright, flaming pieces of molten rock, threaded through with boiling lava where it seeps from the hot core. Distantly, his body drops, drained from mana until Hinata stops, turns with a mana potion, and boosts him until he can get back up.

Behind him, Kageyama finishes changing his dress-sphere and shifts the heavy folds of his samurai robes around him, bracing himself to deal damage and defeat that which stands in their way.

Each of them has a speciality, of course; Nishinoya’s berserker qualities and quick, animal reflexes next to Asahi’s slow-charging, high damage dark knight attacks are a heady combination of impossible to avoid onslaughts.

Sugawara, like Kageyama, defaults to a dark mage; fully capable of dealing damage, but just as good at providing attack ups and pinch-healing. Unfortunately, in the limited space of a battleground, Kageyama is first choice with more skills mastered, a quicker cast time, and a constant eye on his team.

"Daichi will be fine," Asahi offers, missing the point as the enemy falls, with Hinata rushing to Daichi, guns sheathed at his hips so he can offer help if needed.

"I know," Sugawara sighs, rests his head on his forearms for a minute, and gathers his thoughts for when they return to the airship.

Once back, Kageyama disappears below-decks to stash the loot from their victory, while Daichi sinks off towards Tsukishima, ready to rattle off all the knowledge he’s gained throughout the fight.

"We got another dress-sphere!" Hinata calls out, though, eagerly showing Sugawara the orange orb. Light pulses from it gently, almost soothingly when Hinata thrusts it into his hands and encourages him to try it out.

Sugawara closes his eyes tight, and lets the feeling from the orb flood into his mind. In what seems like seconds, the heavy dark mage skirts fade away, the tall black hat disappears into nothingness, and a cool sensation engulfs him until he opens his eyes and pockets the orb, turning to their mirror.

He has all white on - a small dress, to his mid-thigh, and white boots to the knee with a flat, comfortable sole. Over it all is a cloak from his shoulders to the floor, with a hood hanging from it if he ever needs it.

White satiny gloves come up to his elbows and he has a long white staff in his hands, with an elaborate design on the end. A gentle touch tingles from his fingertips as he seizes the first spell he can feel inside him - and automatically channels it towards Daichi.

Green light shimmers around him, willing away the cuts and bruises they won’t waste a potion on. Everything stops for a second.

"A healer!" Nishinoya bursts out eventually, no longer able to take the silence. He comes close and prods at the robes; the tight little dress with a zip up the front, hugging his hips and torso. With the cloak, it’s surprisingly warm. "That’s so cool… you won’t have to use up all your mana to heal us, now!"

Behind him, Hinata bounces closer, similarly excited, curiously touching the long staff.

"So now we can go really hard at the monsters, right?" he questions, plans clearly forming in his head. Without the barrier of a limited amount of healing potions, and dark mages who can only heal once or twice, he knows Hinata will throw caution to the wind. "Because you’ll be there waiting to switch out with us and keep us safe!"

The words start a tingle in Sugawara’s stomach, so he laughs, nods, and lets them come closer to press kisses to his cheeks and dart off. He’ll have to fight battles to hone his skills, but being a protector doesn’t sound so bad.

Later, he lays down the staff in the room he shares with Daichi, beds opposite eachother. With the world at risk, and even the skies a dangerous place when other sphere-hunters around, there’s been little time to work on their fledgling relationship.

"I have a confession," Daichi says, sat on his own bed. Dark metal shoulder guards are beside him, leaving him in his fabric tunic and thin chainmail. Leaving the armour on his legs, he gets up, comes over, and rests his head on Sugawara’s shoulder. "I have a few, actually."

His hands find their way to Sugawara’s hips and stay there.

"I was always glad you weren’t on the field," he admits, making Sugawara almost push him away, hands on his shoulders already. "I’m good, but I can’t block every strike. I never wanted you to get hurt."

The hands on his slips slide to his back until he’s being hugged tightly.

"But I have to confess you look good like this, too. And I like the idea of you there, behind me, healing me. With your healing, I can block every hit, and give back as soon as I get," he presses a kiss to Sugawara’s cheek in lieu of being able to kiss his neck. "I want you by my side all the time."

He looks away, suddenly shy, and he deserves Sugawara’s honesty, too.

"Me too," he says, smiles, then thinks of fully mastering the white mage dresssphere. "I want to make sure you’re always safe and unhurt. The rest, too, but I always worry about you. I can’t run this alone… and even if they’re here, this is me and you leading it…"

Daichi leans back, pauses for a deep breath, and kisses him. They’re definitely in this together.


	3. Chapter 3

3/7

Daichi meets Sugawara at Harvard law school, and spends his time enamored. Partially, he agrees with what his classmates say. Sugawara is too kind (Daichi tries to smother himself in a pillow at the thought of his gentle smile), too trusting (like the time he held Daichi’s hand on a weekend party, oblivious to the way Daichi wanted to kiss him and pretend they were boyfriends), and too pretty to be a lawyer. He’ll never have the shark-like instinct to go for blood in a defendant and rip into it.

Mostly though, besides agreeing, Daichi is just besotted.

"I brought some sandwiches," Daichi announces in their second semester, arriving to their study group. Tsukishima, one of their first-years, is nose-deep in his books, ignoring the rest of the world in favour of reading the same passage a seventh time. Daichi doesn’t have the heart to tell him the professor finds insanity pleas dull and easy, and spends little time on them in the exam. "Since it looks like an all-nighter this time."

"Thanks," Sugawara smiles, and looks like an angel. He picks through the selection and goes for the cheese and onion one that Daichi had made just for him, on Asahi’s indelicate hinting. When he bites into it, he moans in pleasure, tilts his head back, and Daichi distracts himself by scolding Hinata and Kageyama for bickering over who’ll quiz the other first. "This is really delicious, Daichi."

Looking him deep in the eye, Sugawara touches his thigh in a purely friendly, innocent touch. Daichi really believes in insanity pleas.

Over the next six study sessions, where Sugawara leans over his back, murmurs answers in his ear, and touches him more than ever, Daichi masturbates more than he ever did as a teenager, and makes his wrist ache something fierce.

"You poor thing," Sugawara sighs, alone in Daichi’s room, and presses a kiss to his sore wrist.

"I like you," Daichi blurts out, unable to help himself. He’s been composed a damn long time, and his exams are near enough that his nerves are fried even more than his brain is. He can’t handle this closeness.

"I know," Suguawara says, and is kissing him. Then, Sugawara is touching him, with pretty, delicate hands. His fingers trace Daichi’s abdomen, his pecs, his arms and then his neck, making him shiver and tilt his head back to welcome dozens of kissing flickering between soft and hard like candlelight. Common sense flees him.

"You know?" he manages, when his shirt is pushed up and over his head, until it leaves bare his chest. Sugawara leaves him unkissed for only seconds, pressing one to his mouth, then his tummy, then his nipples. His tongue darts over Daichi’s nipple, his fingers teasing the other until he arches his back, hard and squirming under the delicious, torturous attention.

"I always knew," Sugawara smiles, and he’s not sure what to make of that smile when it is still kind but selfsatisfied, and his fingers are working the button on Daichi’s jeans open, then tug them off and leave them on the floor where they belong. "You all think I’m blind, but I’m a shark as much as you are."

With swift motions, he relieves Daichi of his underwear too, gently coaxing him further onto the narrow bed, and into spreading his legs. He feels on display, almost shy at the way Sugawara looks at him like he wants to devour him forever, with hands and mouth and words.

"We all go for blood just the same," he continues, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of Daichi’s cock, and jerk at it while he continues downwards, rummaging in his pocket for a small, clear tube of lube. "But I like it when you come to me first. I was waiting…"

Slowly, he works a finger into Daichi, careful not to hurt him or let him go limp at the odd, foreign feeling. He feels at once too wide and too stretched, though it’s only one finger moving slowly in and out of him, but Sugawara leans forward and nips at his collarbone, distracting him.

Slowly, he adds a second finger, murmuring soothing noises as Daichi groans in discomfort, wriggling his hips to make it stop for a second.

"It’ll feel good in a minute," Sugawara promises, and he’s never been wrong before, so Daichi takes his advice, forces himself to relax, thinks of Sugawara’s soft kisses and the look of lust in his eyes. When he adds a third finger, Daichi groans again, fuller than he’s ever felt until Sugawara’s fingers crook slightly and search for something, then find it and rub repeatedly until Daichi forgets his discomfort and lays panting, sweating and horny on his sheet. "See?"

Slowly, Sugawara pulls out his fingers and lines up his slick cock, pushing in in slow increments, whispering soothing nonsense into Daichi’s ear. His voice has a slight purring quality to it when he whispers, made rough by how much he wants Daichi, how much he holds himself back. Eventually, finally, he settles fully inside and steals a kiss.

"Okay?" he questions, rubbing at Daichi’s cock all the while. At his nod he pulls out slightly, thrusting back in without any real force, then repeat, gradually pulling out further as Daichi’s shoulders relax and he pulls Sugawara close, arms around his shoulders.

He lets out a moan when Sugawara grips his thighs and almost folds him in half, angling his cock to the sweet spot he’d found earlier, brushing past it over and over as he fucks him harder every time he drags a noise from Daichi’s throat, coaxing small wails and loud moans from him with no regard for their dorm neighbours.

"It’s good…!" he groans eventually, hips twitching in time with Sugawara’s thrusts, coming on his own chest, laying panted and sated until Sugawara comes and pulls out, and cuddles him close.

Boneless and exhausted, Daichi smiles a bit.

"So you like me too?" he questions, cocking one eyebrow.

"Of course," Sugawara smiles, all teeth, and leans down to kiss his new boyfriend.


	4. Chapter 4

From when he is six, Daichi keeps track of the boy who looks like moonlight. He has hair that looks silver, but spun finer than the finest silver thread in all his kingdom, and his eyes are like the moon reflected in the water of the pond in Daichi's courtyard, the kind that looks like it has a core of iron; like the cold moons in December months that watch over them as they wait for spring.

The boy who looks like moonlight lives in the palace, and is perhaps as old as his cousin; eight, or nine. Looking at him gives Daichi a tingle in his tummy the way he'd felt when he'd looked at a glimmering golden ball in the treasury, and his footman had slapped his wrist and scolded him.

Daichi remembers vividly that Mama had worn her purple gown and her hair in a big, swooping fashion, because she'd snapped her delicate fan shut, and bared her teeth. He hoped that someday he would have impressive teeth like Mama, long and sharp, full of venom. She had frowned a lot (which she did not do often, for a ruler must look graceful and kind), and tutted at the footman.

'He is a royal, and a dragon besides. The blood will out. Let him hoard,' Mama had said, given him the golden ball, and led him by the hand to his room. There, he picked a chest; the one with his toy horses, and she'd had him empty it. Inside, she put the small golden ball, and warmth had curled in his chest to see it safe. Treasure she'd explained, was only the most valuable things. A greedy dragon couldn't rule a kingdom, but neither could a selfless dragon. If something were truly important, it was worth protecting.

Since, he has gathered a small crystal horse, and some stones from his first trip to the beach in the western country. But the boy with the silver hair makes him feel the same.

"I think he's treasure," Daichi says, over a dinner of lamb and sweet potatoes. The glass in front of him is wine, though Mama's is a deep, lush red, and his seems barely tinged pink and tastes a lot like water.

"People aren't treasure," Papa interrupts. He's very big, and when he gets worked up, he grumbles like Daichi can hear the fire churning in his chest. If anything wants to hurt him, Papa will burn them to smoulders and feed them to the hunting hounds. "People are loved, not hoarded, and if you put a loved one in a chest, everything that makes them shiny will fade."

Daichi plucks at his green beans, frowns deeply, and thinks about the moonlight boy all the way through his history lesson.

When he is eight, and the boy is ten, his handwriting is much prettier. He need only flips from the first page (when he saw the boy in the gardens, picking flowers and looking pretty), to the last one filled (where he saw the boy passing by the kitchens, smiling gently at the staff. Which is a nice thing, Papa says. A man who is cruel to his cook is soon a dead man). He has seen him a lot of times, and never spoken to him, but his smile is shinier than the little golden ball.

"Papa," Daichi says, eventually, when he is eleven, and cannot look at the moonlight boy without blushing. Soon, he'll ask his name. He's a dragon and a prince, and if anyone laughs at him, he'll have them put in the prisons without dinner. "How is a person loved?"

Papa, sitting behind his big desk, stops short where he is writing Important Letters to faraway lands.

"Well," he starts, and Mama smiles her secret smile - the one she always has when he asks Papa questions. "You try to make them happy. If you love someone, your happiness mingles with theirs, and you want to see them smile, so you take interest in what they like, bring them gifts that are special, and spend time with them."

He ends on an awkward cough, but the information is enough.

"My name is prince Sawamura Daichi the second, prince of the realm and heir to the dragon bloodline of the eastern lands," Daichi eventually introduces himself to the silver boy, stumbling over his words. His etiquette teacher groans from a slight distance away, forever pained at how his high breeding flies out the window in the face of nervousness.

"I'm Sugawara," the boy says, and Daichi nearly combusts from the fire that roars inside him. "Sugawara Koushi."

After that, he is braver. He brings Sugawara a small potted plants from the northern lands; it's like a tree, but has spikes instead of leaves. He sees Sugawara gardening a lot, and is as casual as he can possibly manage. Then, he brings apricot scones to their meeting under the hanging wisterias, and eventually, brings the small golden ball.

"I want you to have this," he says, handing it over as he is fourteen, and nearly an adult.

"I can't possibly take something so expensive," Sugawara shakes his head exactly four times. Over the years, he knows all - Sugawara's pixie bloodline, his father's fall from grace marrying a human woman, and every passion he has ever had, from gardening to horseriding to books about long-forgotten kings.

"But you're a much brighter treasure than it is," Daichi insists, thrusting it into his hands, and immediately stops cold. "Though you're a person, not treasure."

Sugawara goes quiet, takes the ball, and kisses his cheek.

He doesn't bring it up until months later, in the warm conservatory in the cold winter months. He's tossing the ball up in the air, catching it over and over.

"Am I not treasure to you?" Sugawara asks, holding still. Daichi has a book, and his head on Sugawara's knees.

"Dad said people can't be treasure," Daichi murmurs, enamoured by reading about blood princes. "You can't take a person like you take treasure."

The explanation is solid to a dragon, and not so much to a pixie.

"But what if a person is freely given?" Sugawara asks, full of pixie logic about things freely given, quiet enough to draw his attention from his book. Sugawara's face is very close, with wide, watching eyes.

"Then they can be treasure, I think," Daichi breathes out, so quiet he thinks Sugawara would miss it were he further away. "I don't make the rules."

Sugawara leans in and steals a kiss, if only small.

"What if you were someone's treasure, and they were yours?" Sugawara prompts, unsubtle as he has ever been.

"In that case," Daichi whispers, "I think we're called lovers."


	5. Chapter 5

Sugawara Koushi is sick of mountains. He is also sick of catching rabbits for dinner, sleeping alone, and not curling up with the pack on cold, rainy afternoons. But Sugawara Koushi also knows (hopes) the solitude, the sore feet, and the cold days are worth it. After all, at the end of his journey awaits his mate.

They have written letters; the letters from Daichi carry the scent of forest scrub with hints of fresh, cold snow, and the musk that is an alpha. The letters are held close to his heart, both for the small, mundane things they discuss, like the fox population near their pack territory and the difference between water from lakes and streams, but he also holds them close to his heart for the confessions they carry.

No one but him knows of the secret fears in Daichi’s heart; how he will lead his rapidly-growing pack when his father soon steps down, or what he will do if his territory is besieged by outsiders.

Koushi longs to rub his shoulders, nip gently at his ears, and promise him all will be well and though letters carry his love and soothing words, it is hardly the same. Instead, he spends long nights re-reading them in dark inns with bad candlelight.

Then, eventually, the smell of wolf, of pack, infiltrates and overpowers his sense of smell after three weeks’ hard travel. He shifts from wolf to man, straightens his collar bearing his pack markings and familial name, and smiles at a few curious pups beckoned by his scent. He is an alpha’s son but is not one himself; his strong scent throws them off.

"You mustn’t wander," he chastises them, and takes one by the hand, and rubs the other (still shaped as a small, bouncy silver-grey wolf) behind the ears. Obediently, they agree with him as all children do with strange adults.

It takes only seconds for the pack to notice him (stranger, foreign) near the young of their pack, and three of them surround him in a flash, not exactly hostile (hostility seems to shy from Koushi’s soothing smile) but defensive nonetheless.

"I’m here to see Daichi," he says, and the growling subsides. One of the women who had been ready to protect the pack instead casts her eyes to the heavens, and looks at him like she knows him already. Then, she howls. Within minutes, he is settled in a cozy livingroom with a mug-full of mulled wine. Daichi bursts in like a wolf possessed and grabs him; a scent of the fresh kill lingering on his mouth where he whispers a soft hello.

Koushi whispers one back, holds him tight, and feels him relax. Every alpha needs a mate; one to lean on, to confide in, and to show weakness they can never let the pack know. Others slide from the room, shut the door, and leave them to take in the men behind the letters that carried more secrets than drops of rain.

"I’ve missed you," Koushi confesses, a relieved whine on the end of it. He has longed to hold his mate for nigh on three years. Still, saying it feels inane when they have never met before. Instead of a response he gets a kiss, and he cradles the back of Daichi’s head, explores his mouth until he can taste every word that was ever written, and draws back with a feral instinct. There are worries (leading the pack alone, being unworthy, someday crumbling) that Koushi intends to lay to rest with tender love and dedication. After all, even alphas may take their lover inside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dont ask me about biology im not a scientist im a college dropout who just got home at 9pm

Daichi spends a day in shock, off from their university classes, and refuses to see anyone. Even Koushi, and really? He’s the slightest bit hurt. In there is Daichi, on his own, with something they made together inside him. With hesitation in his bones, he knocks on the door and waits for… something. Silence, or a grumble, or anything that isn’t telling him to go away. After a few minutes he lets himself in, food in hand, and sits down next to Daichi, fully clothed but shoulders slightly slumped.

"Guys don’t get pregnant," he says, almost petulant, but Koushi has always found him endearing - the strict scolding of their teammates or his calm, sure determination making his point in classes. He even likes the Daichi who will tiredly lean against him after a long day, and watch bad movies with him.

"Clearly, they do," Koushi protests, slides closer, and has his hands batted away. He is not so fond of the side of Daichi that will mull on problems alone, and only speak when he has a solution. Not everything is a battle, and really, Koushi doesn’t consider this a problem. His sister has kids - he has always been good with kids - and he can handle a pregnant boyfriend. Even if it will take a long time and a bulk order of condoms before he’s ever allowed to top again.

"I’ll have to sit my exams pregnant," Daichi frowns, rests his head on the back of his chair, and his hands on his tummy. They lace together plainly - it is too soon to form real attachment to something that isn’t even showing yet. "We’ll have to childproof the house."

His frown deepens, thinking of the house Daichi’s uncle is willing to rent them on the cheap, in a decent part of town. There’s sharp edges all over in the minimalist, clean-cut bathroom and the pristine white kitchen.

"So much for married bliss," Koushi agrees, but he is smiling, fond of the idea, and ignores the exasperation.

-

After that, it takes a good two more months until Daichi shows, three and a half months in, and Nishinoya starts questioning how he sits out volleyball and wears a lot of sweaters. It’s hot in a gym, way too hot for a hoodie over a t-shirt, and Koushi asks about it later too.

"Are you ashamed of it?" he frowns, just a bit, concerned more than anything. Daichi is his first and foremost, and it’s his role to support and care.

"It’s still not really real to me," Daichi confesses, unzips the hoodie, and splays his hands on his belly. Where he had abs it’s still slightly defined, but flatter, becoming more taut. Koushi touches at the skin, warm and smooth as ever, and nuzzles at it. 

"Me neither," he confesses, "But it’s a pretty good dream."

-

Eventually, it becomes something that isn’t possible to hide, but by then, between scans and blood-tests and sore ankles, it’s a pretty sure reality. Nishinoya gets into a grappling wrestling match with Hinata over who gets to hold the baby first, and Koushi is of the firm opinion that yelling at them to stop over-stressed Daichi by far. Daichi finds him overprotective.

-

By eight months, Daichi is gravid to the point of soreness and a lot of sleep, grumbling loudly at night over all of his discomfort. He relaxes most when Koushi rubs at the taut skin, presses kisses to it, and rubs cocoabutter in to prevent stretch-marks, like he has from the first time he could talk Daichi into letting him. He’s researched, and looked, and read more than he’s certain any man ever has.

"Not long now," he says, ready to cook family meals and baths all together.

"Try saying that when you’re uncomfortable all the time," Daichi grumps back at him, but holds his hand none-the-less, and looks fond.

Not long at all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> abuse tw

Daichi is a second son with a lot of bruises on his face and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. When Koushi first sees him, he looks impossibly, untouchably young in the meticulously perfect rips in his trousers, the artful mess of his hair (skewed in every direction, perfectly), and the bandaged knuckles. If it weren’t for the bruises, he would look a hand-crafted archtye of a boy trying to win the attention of his hard-lined father in a less than reputable profession.

"You should disinfect that," Koushi offers on the train, voice gentle, as he watches the cut on Daichi’s eyebrow seep slowly and drip over his jawbone. He raises no hand to touch; he has no will to see the flinch that will inevitably come with it. Briefly, he thinks of Tsukishima, the too-strict parents, and his eventual running away.

"I’m too young to buy alcohol to run over it," Daichi shrugs, wipes it with a tissue, and despite the appearance, shows him a polite, gentle smile. Koushi is several lifetimes too old for him, too plain, and cannot take advantage of dead-beat fathers leaving boys with broken hearts.

"I have some rubbing alcohol in my pantry," Koushi says, smiles a bit, and cups Daichi’s elbow. He tells himself it is kindness he does it for, and ignores that kindness is a gilded cage to boys who have never known it before.

-

In his house, Daichi looks like he doesn’t want to touch anything, but forces his body to listen to him - spreads his arms and legs wide over the couch, takes up space, and has an awkward tenseness in his shoulders. He moves on instinct when Koushi sits next to him and pats his knee, then hisses at the sting of a cotton bud soaked in alcohol rubbing over his cut.

"Hurts," he mumbles, slightly shaky, and Koushi wonders if he is oft allowed to express hurt. He takes away the cotton bud and leans in, presses a gentle kiss to it, and nudges him softly.

"Better?" he asks, and Daichi is slightly less guarded for the rest of the eve.

-

He comes by a lot, with different bruises and an eyebrow piercing, and sore ribs that Koushi feels gently, hands splayed, and thanks every god he knows that he is a doctor. Even if, he adds as an after thought, he is fifteen years Daichi’s senior.

-

Daichi kisses him on a Tuesday, neck bruised, face rent, and wrist most likely sprained if not fractured. He kisses desperate, seeking, clinging, and has long eyelashes up close.

"I want to stay with you," he says firmly, and guilt and pleasure churn in Koushi’s gut at the sight of the determined set of Daichi’s shoulders, the fact he will look him in the eye now, and Koushi mourns that Daichi did not fall for a more worthy man. "I left home."

The guilt migrates to his heart, and falls to the pleasure of Daichi’s dedication, his growing boldness, and the sight of his skin clear and even as the weeks go on.


End file.
